


A First Time For Many Things

by castiel_lightwood



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:51:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_lightwood/pseuds/castiel_lightwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for my friend who requested a destiel hunting fic where cas is still being trained and gets injured in some way (I have no idea about the title either btw)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A First Time For Many Things

Dean wasn’t completely sure why he’d agreed to take Cas hunting. Sure, it was important for Cas to learn how to hunt, to get some practical experience of working without his angel mojo, but it really wasn’t helping Dean ignore his feelings for the former angel.

They were hunting a ghost - something nice and simple to ease Cas into the hunting life. Admittedly, Cas had been very helpful in the research stage, although seeing him in a library bent over a book had reminded Dean of too many fantasies for his liking. And the way his eyes had squinted as he read the words, his head tilted to one side - it had been too adorably hot. And Dean couldn’t have that.

But now, he wasn’t sure what the point of Cas being there was. He’d found the grave in question and then stood there, staring at Dean, a shovel held loosely by his side. Dean had raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

"I’ve never dug up a grave before, Dean."

"Yeah, well, first time for everything." He tried not to think of the other things he wanted to share Cas’s first time of.

"No. I’m not comfortable with it - its sacrilegious."

Dean slammed his shovel into the ground. “Dude, you rebelled against heaven. You killed angels, let the leviathans out of purgatory. And you’re worried about a little grave digging?”

Cas’s eyes were dark with pain. “I’m trying to make a new start, Dean. And you shouldn’t make me feel more guilty about things I will eternally regret.”

Dean threw his hands up. “Fine. I’m sorry. But this is gonna take long enough even with both of us.”

"I can’t Dean."

He shook his head. “I don’t have time for this.”

So now Dean was up to his waist in soil, sweat running down his back, soaking his t-shirt. He wiped a hand across his forehead, dragging mud and god knows what else across his skin. He was trying to channel his rage at Cas into his digging, but it wasn’t really working. He was too worried about hurting Cas, about forcing him away. And Dean couldn’t bear to lose him again.

Cas was leaning against a grave stone - not sacred enough for that, Dean grumbled - watching Dean in his toiling labour. He had that look, somewhere between being constipated and being confused. Dean glanced up at Cas from time to time even though he was trying his hardest to ignore him.

Eventually he gave in. “What is it Cas?” He panted out, taking a momentary break from his work.

Cas shook his head, squinting. “Why do people get buried, Dean?”

Dean groaned in annoyance, thrusting his shovel into the soil angrily. “Really not on my list of problems right now.”

"Hmmm." Cas looked like he was giving Dean’s response serious thought. Dean rolled his eyes and was about to snap out a retort because he’d had it up to here with Cas today -

He heard the familiar sound of metal on wood, and let out a huff of relief. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer.

He smashed through the wooden casing, revealing the rotting bones beneath. “Pass me the salt and petrol, would’ya?”

Cas leaned over the edge of the grave, and held out the salt cautiously. Dean tried to ignore how clean the angel’s hands were compared to his, how cold his skin felt when his fingers brushed Dean’s. He fought a shiver. Its just from the cold, he told himself. That was the same reason for the goosebumps that definitely weren’t only where Cas had brushed his arm.

He poured on the salt and petrol and made to get out of the grave. Then he realised his problem. The grave was much deeper than he’d realised, too deep for him to climb out unassisted.

Normally when he was on a hunt with his brother, Sammy would give him a leg up out of the grave with his overgrown arms, and then Dean would help his brother out. But Sammy wasn’t there. There was only Cas.

He swallowed his nervousness and annoyance, and gestured up at Cas who was standing above the grave, watching Dean almost amused. “Come on man, help me out.”

Cas frowned. “You need me to pull you out?”

"Well, we can’t burn the bones with me still down here." Dean was amazed he had to explain this to Cas. The guy was a former angel, not a complete idiot.

Cas crouched down, then changed his mind and knelt on one knee, reaching down for Dean. If Dean hadn’t been so nervous, he would have made a joke about proposals. He grunted (hopefully not too loudly) as he took Cas’s hands, gripping him as tightly as he dared. Cas frowned and pulled, leaning backwards. He was stronger than Dean had expected, and Dean realised he’d overestimated how hard he’d have to push down on the ground, how much energy he needed to launch himself out of the grave. He was aware of Cas’s eyes widening with surprise, his body tumbling backwards as his arms were overpowered by Dean’s weight and momentum -

Cas’s face was inches from Dean’s. Dean’s body was pressed close to Cas’s, he could feel every line of his body beneath the suit and trench coat, dear God -

He opened his mouth, which was completely dry. “Cas, I -” he croaked out. What was he going to say?

Cas stared up at him, blue eyes wide with surprise and bright with something - did Dean imagine it? - like anticipation?

"Dean…" He breathed out softly, and then Dean was focusing on his lips and it was too much -

Their lips met. It was a soft but desperate struggle, both of them letting go of the emotion they’d kept hidden for so long, scarcely believing that this was actually happening, that they were kisssing.

Dean knotted his fingers into Cas’s hair, pulling him closer, relishing as Cas let out a tiny moan against his lips. Cas ran his hands down Dean’s back, but frowned, pulling away ever so slightly.

Dean froze, unsure by the rejection. “Cas? What is it?”

Cas let out a tiny huff of breath, which tickled Dean’s nose. “You’re dirty, Dean.”

Dean let out a startled laugh, and bent to kiss Cas again. “Thank god that’s all it was.” He propped himself up on one elbow, still leaning over Cas. “You know what a great way to get clean is?”

Cas frowned and Dean grinned. “Showers. Nice long showers.” He wiped his hands across Cas’s face, smearing mud along his cheeks. Cas frowned deeper - he’d give himself permanent lines - and caught Dean’s wrists. “What are you doing?”

Dean kissed Cas’s neck. “Looks like you’ll have to join me in that shower now.”

Cas’s smiled grew and he rolled them over so he was on top of Dean. He kissed Dean, starting with his lips but then moving down to his neck and his collarbone. Dean groaned, and put his hands out, holding Cas’s shoulders.

Cas looked up, the picture of innocence if nor for the dark gleam in his eye. “Problem, Dean?”

"Not here. Please. I -" Dean was saved having to explain by Cas pulling back and standing up, once again reaching down to help Dean up. He had a smug smile.

"What?" Dean asked as Cas pulled him up.

"Not the first time I’ve gripped you tight and raised you up."

Dean rolled his eyes, picking up his leather jacket. Because now he really was cold. “Dude, I wasn’t in perdition.”

Cas’s grin grew. “No. Just in the closet.”

Dean’s jaw nearly hit the ground. “I - what -“

Cas kissed his cheek lightly. “Don’t worry. Sammy hasn’t told everyone.”

"Dammit, Sammy." Dean growled, reaching into his pocket for his lighter. He paused and handed it to Cas. "Here. You do it."

Cas frowned. “Are you sure?”

Dean flashed a grin. “Oh, baby, you set fire to everything. Including my heart.”

Cas genuinely smiled. That’s what made him different to other people who would have rolled their eyes at Dean’s cheesy lines. He took the lighter and considered it with real concern. It took him a few goes, but eventually he had a flame. He looked happily from the flame to Dean, who shared his happiness for about two seconds.

"Cas, watch out, your tie -"

The tip of the blue fabric burst into flames. Dean swore, knocking the lighter out of Cas’s hand, where it conveniently fell into the grave, which burst into flames. He ripped the tie off Cas, stamping out the flames on the floor.

He turned to Cas, who looked like a stunned rabbit.

"You idiot," Dean growled and then repeated softer. "You idiot."

He picked up the smoking tie and stared at the slight soot on Cas’s face. He nodded and took Cas’s hand, and Cas squeezed back gently.

"We are definitely having that shower now." Dean promised.


End file.
